As per usual, autumn in Fillydelphia brought cold evening drizzles to the small metropolis. During this particular twilight, the normally-bustling urban hub felt unusually silent as worsening weather and fading light kept everypony inside. Well, almost everypony: one lone pegasus roamed the city streets.
Thunderbreeze loved the rain. He lived for the bracing shiver of ice-cold droplets seeping under his teal coat, his sodden grey mane hanging low over his eyes. He delighted in the splish that interrupted the usual clop of hooves on hard cobblestone as he stepped in a freshly formed puddle. The gentle staccato of rain on the eaves and rooftops, while a lullaby to some ponies, was the music to which his heart beat. Each drop had a special place in that heart; being the weather patrol's storm specialist, he had made every single one.
The only thing that the quiet pegasus enjoyed as much as rain was going on walks. He always had lots of free time on his hooves, due to the nature of his job. Storms were usually only scheduled a couple of times a week, except maybe in the spring. Most of the time, he didn’t even have to watch or control his creations; just spend a few hours whipping one up, then let the rest of the team handle it from there. His daily schedule, therefore, was very bare. So, having nothing better to do, he walked.
A few of the ponies he knew wondered why he, a strong-winged pegasus pony, would stay on the ground so much. It wasn’t that he didn’t like flying; he very much enjoyed being able to soar freely through the skies. However, his job required a lot of air-time, and sometimes, a pony needs a break. The teal pegasus found that long, slow walks through the city were quite peaceful. Sometimes he was accompanied by a friend, usually Stormcaller, but most of the time Thunderbreeze enjoyed solitude; while fun, it was hard to find peace with his talkative friend around. He knew almost every square inch of the north side of town, where his apartment was, having wandered these streets many times. Perhaps that was why, on this particular fall evening, he stopped at the entrance to an alleyway, having glimpsed something odd out of the corner of his eye.
As he turned his head to peer down the alley, he spotted saw a strange object sitting at the end of the dimly-lit passage. It appeared to be a large blue box. Strangely, as he tried to focus on it, the weatherpony’s eyes began to slide away, towards the other side of the street. Noticing this, he sharply shook his head and refocused on the strange sight before him. It was more than just a box; it looked almost like a tiny stable. It seemed to have a double door with some sort of plaque on it, and what looked like an oddly-shaped light bulb perched on top. As he took a few tentative steps closer, he read the the words “Police Public Call Box” over the door.
“Police?” he wondered aloud. “I wonder if this has anything to do with the FPD.” Since he technically had a government job, Thunderbreeze knew a few policeponies. They seemed to be fairly nice fellows and, like him, they didn’t have much to do all day. When you’re in a community of happy ponies who were supposedly created around the fundamental essences of harmony itself, ruled by an immortal being sworn to protect the peace, crime rates aren’t all that high.
But I’ve never seen anything like this before! And why would the police put anything in a dark alley on the northern fringe of town?
The teal pony cautiously began to approach the mysterious box, intent on opening the doors and looking inside, but before he was even halfway there, one of the doors opened, just a crack. A small, well-aimed scroll flew out, and he hadn't the time to even blink before it struck him right between the eyes, bouncing off his face and falling to the pavement. The door was quickly slammed shut behind it. He gaped in shock.
There’s somepony in that thing! And they threw something at me!
He galloped up to the box and pounded his hoof against the door, yelling, “Hey! Who’s in here?” Silence. After listening for a second, he impatiently yanked on the door handle. The door wouldn’t budge. The normally calm pegasus was now starting to get kind of angry. He pounded on the door again. Unnoticed by him, a few stray sparks flew from his hoof on impact.
“I know you’re in there! Open the freaking door, or at least say something! Why did you bean me in the face?!” As he jammed his ear to the door, he could almost hear faint voices.
Suddenly, a strange thrumming noise began to emanate for the blue box. A mysterious breeze picked up, swirling the raindrops as they fell through the air. With some anger replaced by fright, Thunderbreeze began to back away slowly. The thing on top of the box began flashing with light, and suddenly, he glimpsed the other end of the alley. Through the box! The whole thing began flashing and fading in and out of view. The pegasus stared, awestruck. Finally, the box disappeared altogether, leaving behind only a strange ringing in his ears and some trash floating lazily away on the mysterious draft.
He just stood there, gazing blankly into the distance, his logical mind trying to comprehend what had just happened. It was all so sudden. One minute, he was enjoying a pleasant stroll, the next, he was angrily assaulting a box. A blue box. A blue box that had just disappeared in front of his very eyes. One of said eyes twitched. His mind went utterly blank as it hit its overload capacity. After standing there zoned out for nearly ten minutes, his mind arrived at the only possible conclusion. He shook his head and grinned wryly. “Well, it looks like you finally lost it, buddy. Time to get drunk and institutionalize yourself.” He turned around and began to walk back home.
Until his hoof hit something. The teal pony looked down and saw a slightly soggy piece of parchment resting on the cobblestones. The pony in the box nailed me in the face with that!, he remembered. He prepared to angrily stomp on it as he walked off, but stopped himself. I wonder if it says anything interesting... maybe I can use it to figure out who that was! After a brief hesitation, he decided to read it. Resisting the urge to open it right in the middle of the alleyway, he picked it up in his mouth and began to trot home.
Twenty minutes later, Thunderbreeze reached his moderately-nice second floor apartment. He unlocked the door, went in and flicked on the lights. He then proceeded to immediately make his way to the small kitchen table, where he deposited the strange scroll. Quickly grabbing a beer from the fridge, he flopped down into his lone wooden chair and carefully unrolled the scroll. It contained only a short note. Oddly, it was addressed to him. Was the pony in the box trying to give me the letter? The weatherpony took a swig of his drink, and began to read.
Thunderbreeze,
This is extremely important. You need to follow these instructions and do what you’re told without asking questions. Be in Ponyville, south of Canterlot, two days after you receive this letter. Go to the bakery called Sugarcube Corner at three in the afternoon. There will be somepony there that you need to meet. It’s vital that you go; the whole of Equestria may be at risk. I can’t tell you any more, or why all of this is happening, but you have to trust me.
A Friend
Thunderbreeze stared at the note in shock. While the message was odd, he barely noticed the content. What really caught him off-guard, to the point of not noticing as beer dribbled out the corner of his mouth, was the hoofwriting.
It was his.
Canterlot. The grand capitol city is one of the largest in all of Equestria, with the cliff-side Royal Palace soaring over the huge sprawl of buildings. Canterlot also happens to be the oldest city in the land. And if there’s one thing very old cities are known for, it’s holding equally old secrets.
Underneath the massive urban center there lie miles and miles of ancient, crystal-laden tunnels, radiating out from the long-disused palace dungeons. Only the princesses know where they came from or why they’re there; in fact, nopony other than the royal sisters knows they exist in the first place. Well, almost nopony.
Deep inside Canterlot Mountain, a shadow stirred. A small beam of light flickered into existence, illuminating the way for an amber earth pony as he crept along the tunnel wall, trying and failing to be quiet and stealthy. He tripped, falling flat on his muzzle. Quickly springing back onto his hooves, he shook dirt from his messy brown mane. He would have rubbed his throbbing nose, if not for the surgical mask fitted snugly over it.
Suddenly, the light brown stallion froze. His ears perked up, and he slowly pivoted on the spot, staring intently into the shadows cast by his headlamp. Seeing nothing, he turned, took a deep breath through his mask, and began galloping down the tunnel.
Navigating the poorly-lit twists and turns of the ancient crystalline passageways, he arrived in a large cavern. Sitting in the center of the room was a large blue box. “Oh, there you are, you old thing...,” the pony murmured as he slowed to a trot.
“Halt!” a voice suddenly rang out. “Who is that? Is there somepony down here?” The masked pony swung about, in time to see a tattered-looking royal guard appear from the shadows. He sighed with relief; it was only a guard, after all. He trotted over to the armored pegasus.
“It doesn’t matter who I am. What matters,” he said in a clipped Trottingham accent, “is where we are. We need to get out quickly. There are dangerous things in these tunnels.” He paused, eyes narrowing. “Speaking of which, what’s a palace guard doing down here?”
The guard frowned. “While I was patrolling the castle grounds, I stumbled across an old passageway. I decided to investigate, to see if it was a potential security breach. But I soon lost my way in all these tunnels, and have been down here ever since.”
The earth pony relaxed, and continued to approach the guard. He cast an eye over the the uniformed pony’s rusty, old armor, which didn’t even shine in the headlamp’s beam. “Really? That’s quite interesting. A secret passageway... I wonder why they haven’t.... hmm. Anyways, how long have you been trapped in here? Your uniform has, quite frankly, suffered a bit.”
The armored pegasus grinned. “Sixty years.”
His smile grew longer and longer, his features deforming as his grin literally stretched from ear to ear, bisecting his face. Sharp, predatory fangs flashed in the beam of light.
The amber pony’s eyes widened, and he began to back away, frantically stumbling. The guard-shaped beast advanced, its green eyes flashing gold. The messy-maned earth pony glanced over his shoulder at the box. If he could just... no. Around the edges of the cave, golden eyes opened, peering out of the shadows.
The deformed pegasus was almost upon him now. It chuckled darkly. “Now, now, you know that nothing can run from Moboids forever,” the thing smoothly spoke in a deep, cold, alien voice. “Not even you...Doctor.”
The former guard lashed out. The last thing the brown pony saw was its cracked, peeling hoof with unshorn fetlocks swinging towards his head. Then darkness fell, and he remembered no more.
“So let me get this straight. You saw a blue box in an alley, somepony inside chucked a scroll at your head, and the box disappeared. You read the scroll, and it told you to shut up and go to Ponyville tomorrow. Right?” queried Lightning Rod. He, Thunderbreeze, and Stormcaller were sitting at the corner table of their favorite bar the following evening. After re-reading the letter multiple times, Thunderbreeze had crashed on his couch and slept until noon. He had spent the whole afternoon trying to wrap his head around what had happened, and decided to tell his two best friends, whose opinions he trusted as much as his own. Preferably in the presence of alcohol.
Thunderbreeze nodded, tossing the scroll onto the table. “Yeah, that about sums it up. Here’s the letter. Oh, and one more thing. You may recognize- uh... my hoofwriting.” The baker and the engineer stared, then glanced at each other. Stormcaller reached for the scroll and opened it.
“But... how... how can it be written by you? Th- that’s... just... huh?” stammered Lightning Rod. The pegasus shrugged, and took a deep gulp of whiskey. The white unicorn seamed to snap out of it, and looked back to Thunderbreeze. “Well, ignoring that part for now, there’s one other question that you should be asking. Why Ponyville? What’s in that little village that’s so important?”
Stormcaller, still reading, gasped, his eyes widening dangerously. He looked up from the letter and exclaimed “Sugarcube Corner! That’s what’s so important!”
The other two ponies stared. “You’ve heard of it?” Thunderbreeze hadn’t even heard of the town, much less the bakery he was told to go to.
“Of course I’ve heard of Sugarcube Corner! What baker hasn’t? It’s legendary for having the bestest, most super-delicious sweets and pastries in all of Equestria! Forget the ominous letter, you should go to Ponyville just to experience their cakes! And fritters! And cupcakes! And muffins! And flans! And...” Lightning Rod and Thunderbreeze blocked him out and turned towards each other.
“You know,” the unicorn engineer began, “Storm did bring up a good point somewhere in that train wreck. It says to go to Ponyville tomorrow. Are you going to do it?”
The weatherpony stared off into space for few moments. “Well, while I’m completely confused and unsure about this, I don’t really have a reason not to go. There isn’t another squall scheduled for nearly a week, so it’s not like I’ll be doing much of anything anyway. And I can’t see any harm coming from a visit to a supposedly famous bakery in a town near Canterlot. I might get to figure out what the heck is going on. And if not, it sounds like I’ll at least get some good food. And, honestly, I'm really bored.” They both glanced at Stormcaller, who was listing off stranger and stranger foods. “So yeah, I’ll probably go. Do you guys want to come with me?”
“...And chimicherrychangas and jammy dodgers and... wait, what? Go with you? You want me to go to Sugarcube Corner with you?!” the blue pegasus was practically vibrating in his seat. But then he froze, and slowly deflated. “Sorry, I can’t. I used up all of my vacation days when I went to Manehatten last month. I guess you’ll have to go to Ponyville... without me,” he sighed. Thunderbreeze shrugged, and turned to Lightning Rod.
“How about you, Lightning? Up for an adventure? Possibly even in the name of science?”
A slight smile crept onto the white pony’s face. “Actually, I just so happen to have a date tomorrow night,” he grinned.
Stormcaller perked up. “Ooh, ooh, who is it? How’d you meet her?”
“Well, that’s kind of a long story. A few nights ago, I heard that DJ Pon3 was going to be in town, so, being a big fan, I went to that new club. And while I was there I met this...” Thunderbreeze quietly excused himself, and wandered out into the cool evening. Maybe a nice walk would clear his head, something that more booze would not accomplish. He roamed the ever-so-familiar streets of north Fillydelphia, lost in thought. Luna’s moon began to peer over the tall buildings, the last orange streaks of day slowly fading to blue off in the west. It was a beautiful evening, and, unlike the previous day, many ponies were out and about, enjoying the weather.
Back in the bar he had decided to follow the note’s instructions. But now that he knew that none of his friends would be with him, he was beginning to become a little nervous. While he enjoyed solitude during his walks and daily routine, Thunderbreeze had always been a bit awkward and reliant on others in new situations. New situations like, say, going alone to a small town that he barely recognized, based on the outright demands of a strange letter that appeared to be from himself.
The last part mystified him most of all, and was perhaps the most frightening aspect. Was it from a forger, trying to steal his identity? Did he somehow have a clone, or perhaps an evil twin? No, that only happens on TV. Did he actually write the note himself and then lose his memory? None of the explanations seemed at all feasible. And then there was the blue box. The more he pondered, the more doubt and confusion sprang into his head.
And then he stopped. His hooves had automatically carried him back to the alley from the previous night. The weatherpony stared down the long, poorly-lit side street. It was empty. He remembered the box, how it had sat next to the graffiti-covered dumpster just thirty feet away. He turned onto the alleyway and walked until he stood in the exact spot where the blue box had stood only twenty-four hours previously. It was just like the rest of the alley: dark, damp, dirty, and desolate.
Thunderbreeze made up his mind. He absolutely had to find out what that thing was. He had to find out why the letter was in eerily familiar hoofwriting. Burning curiosity drove all doubt to the back of his mind. The teal pony turned on the spot and began determinedly trotting back in the direction of his apartment. He passed more ponies out enjoying the fresh night, and subsequently ignored them.
When he arrived at his apartment, he went straight to an old, battered desk that had belonged to his father, sitting in the corner of his small bedroom. The pegasus quickly slid open a large drawer, and began to shuffle through the assorted papers that almost spilled from the overflowing compartment. Near the bottom was the item that he was searching for. He pulled out the old train schedule and squinted at the tiny words and numbers.
“Let’s see... weekday schedule, morning routes... outbound, to Canterlot...” He spotted two morning trains. The first one he found was at eleven a.m. He shook his head. That would be cutting it pretty close. The other time was... 7:30. He winced. Thunderbreeze was most definitely not a morning pony. To him, ten o’ clock was considered early: even flying, he was still a good half hour from the downtown train station! Still, it was the only way he’d get there on time. He let out an audible groan.
Glancing at the clock, he sighed, stretched out his legs and wings, and flopped backwards onto his bed. Laying there, he stared sullenly at those annoying little cracks on his ceiling. I ’d better get some sleep, he thought as he closed his eyes. Tomorrow, I’m going to Ponyville.
A/N: Wow. I can't believe I'm doing this. I've never written a fic before. Heck, I haven't really written anything before. But with the encouragement of a certain group of people (you know who you are :D), this little thing that I started handwriting during math class is becoming a reality. Special thanks to my prereaders, LordSeth, Avi, and thegamefilmguruman; plus the rest of you guys.
At first, there was only darkness. Then, on the very edges of existence, a faint glow and a few soft, echoing voices trickled into being. Slowly, the light and noise increased, until thousands of voices began to dart in and out of perception, followed by a gentle golden aura flowing into the void. Suddenly, the black canvas exploded with all of time: spectral trails, lifelines, and fixed points darting, rushing, colliding, and blending everywhere. All was as clear as day, with planets burning, suns being born, and members of thousands of races growing old, encompassing all of space, and yet, in the grand scheme of things, very little space. Then all of this amazing new palette of sensation faded into the background as the Doctor opened his eyes.
He was surrounded by inky blackness. Mostly. As his eyes adjusted, he could see multiple pairs of yellow pinpoints staring back at him. He tried to move, but something soft and insubstantial, yet at the same time hard as a rock, was restraining his limbs as he was awkwardly spread on the floor. From the darkness, one set of eyes drew nearer. The sinister voice of the Mobian guard spoke up.
“So, you’re finally awake. Wonderful,” it crooned foully, “The procedure is much more fun when they struggle a bit. Let us do it n-”
“Well that’s nice and all,” interrupted the slightly peeved earth pony, “But the problem is, I can’t really see you chaps at all, as I seem to have misplaced my head-torch. It’s awfully rude to ‘do it’ to a blind pony. Mind flicking on a light?”
The advancing eyes paused. They flicked over to glance at another pair of glowing orbs off to the side, which lowered and looked down, as if their owner was retrieving something on the ground. The Doctor grinned as he heard multiple clicks and muffled clumping noises, accompanied by a soft string of curses in a variety of alien tongues. Finally, the discarded headlamp flickered on.
Blinking away the spots in his vision from the sudden light, the brown pony looked around, taking stock of his surroundings. He was still in the main chamber, possibly in the exact same spot. A few yards away stood his blue box, which was surrounded by a strange dark frantically swarming and pulsating cloud. He looked down and noticed with some surprise that bonds of the same consistency as the amorphous black cloud appeared to be restraining his limbs, although these seemed to be much tamer.
He looked back up, noting that he was surrounded by a half dozen “ponies” in various states of, well... decay. Many were missing patches of fur or chunks of mane, one was missing half of one of her front legs, and another had flayed strips of mottled, peeling skin hanging from her sides. All had glowing golden eyes and twisted, deformed faces.
The Doctor turned back to the decrepit guard, which was again advancing.
“Say, what are you doing to my ship over there?” the masked pony inquired suddenly.
The twisted pegasus scowled. “We are trying to gain access. But we cannot do so. It cannot be opened or penetrated.”
“Well,” the Doctor chuckled, “That’s because it’s locked, and I’m the only one who knows how to open it.”
“We know,” replied the Moboid, advancing, “That is what the procedure is for. We will take you and we will have you open it for us.” As it reached the earth pony, his strange bonds pulled him upright, onto his hooves
“Actually, you know, I was just curious and all, so I just have to, um, ask,” the Doctor stammered, “What do you chaps want with a TARDIS, after all?”
“We need to escape. We have been in these tunnels for far too long,” it hissed.
“Then why don’t you just leave? There are hundreds of tunnel entrances hidden throughout the whole city.” The Doctor’s confusion was growing.
“We cannot leave! There are powerful spells preventing our exit. We believe that the poor, weak queen knows of our presence, but is too scared to confront us.” This time, it wasn’t just the guard that spoke. All of the former ponies in the cavern spoke in unison, and the brown pony noticed that the cloud around his ship pulsed in time with the words.
“Ah, that makes much more-”
“Enough stalling!” barked the guard. He reached out to pluck the surgical mask from the Doctor’s face. It stayed firmly in place. The guard tried to knock off with a swipe. The mask crumpled in, but still remained firmly in place.
“You’re going to have to try harder than that,” the Doctor grinned.
The guard scowled. Then he opened his hideously stretched mouth, wider and wider. As the Doctor stared down its throat, something stirred. Suddenly, more of the odd black cloud burst from the tattered pegasus’ maw, and began to swarm around the surgical mask. But all it could do was swirl helplessly, as it had done around the blue box. Nothing found a way under or around the white fabric.
“What have you done?” snarled the guard angrily. “Why won’t that silly thing come off?”
The earth pony winked. “Bio-seal. Nothing can get through. This ‘silly thing’ is practically molded to my face.”
The cloud around the police box thrummed. The guard’s ears perked up, and it nodded. “Yes, but you would have some way of removing it yourself, wouldn’t you? What is it? Where is it?”
He smiled innocently. “Well, it would have to be my sonic screwdriver, of course.”
“And where would that be?” pushed the pegasus, approaching threateningly.
The Doctor beamed with barely contained mirth. “In the TARDIS!”
All of the creatures simultaneously emitted a groan of frustration.
Thunderbreeze blinked groggily as the countryside flashed past the train window. He blearily squinted at the small clock on the wall of his compartment; even nine o’clock was far too early for him. They were still an hour out from Canterlot, but he just couldn’t fall back asleep. Frost Shatter, from the weather team, had once said that it was impossible to fall asleep while on a train; that sounded pretty accurate about now.
He sighed, shaking his head, and sat up straight on the hard, wooden bench, looking around the compartment of which he was the sole inhabitant. If he couldn’t sleep, he might as well practice. The pegasus hopped off the bench and walked to the middle of the cabin. He shook his head to wake himself up a little more, before slowly extending his hoof as his dull blue eyes drifted shut.
As he began the routine that he had attempted so many times, all of the tiredness left his body and his senses sharpened into focus. He began to feel a sort of field, in him, around him, throughout the entire train and beyond. He mentally latched onto it, absorbing himself in it, becoming one with it. As a test, he gently flapped his wings once, hearing the slight crackle associated with static. Solitary strands of his mane began to drift up, defying gravity.
Energy and warmth slowly spread throughout the weatherpony’s body, creating a pleasant, enjoyable sensation. Next came the hard part. He focused solely on directing the energy into his outstretched hoof, gently shoving it with his mind. But when he tried to push it, it grew wild and untamed. He winced, and parts of his body suddenly began twitched as the crazed heat crashed around inside his body, battering against the walls of its confinement. It was going wild, and he was losing control. A drop of sweat trickled down his face, followed by many more, as he tried to get a grasp on the energy, while still channeling it forward. This was the stage of the routine that he had never gotten past.
This is useless, he thought, preparing to give up. It was all just a crazy dream, anyway. I don’t know why I thought I could do this. He dejectedly began to relax, his mind wiped blank by his exhaustion.
Suddenly, something shifted, and he felt the flow stop trying to escape and start to divert into his foreleg. It was still wild, but the energy was no longer fighting him. It felt... good, like the adrenaline rush of a steep dive through the clouds. His navy-blue eyes snapped open. The accelerated thudding of his heart reverberated in his chest as the energy swirled inside of him, the widespread field around him warping around his body. His ears twitched, picking up the faintest humming noise.
The leg was thrilled by a light tingling sensation. Staring intently at it, Thunderbreeze exhaled and gave the slightest mental push. To his surprise and joy, a lone blue-white spark raced from his ankle to his hoof, where it spat off into thin air.
Then he literally jumped a foot in the air as a loud rapping came from the compartment door.
His concentration broke spectacularly, and all of the built-up electricity stored within him rushed out and dissipated into the small room. He flicked his hoof. Nothing. Scowling, he stomped over to the door.
“What?!” he barked as slid it open. Mentally, that gave him pause. Did I just bark angrily at somepony? He was usually very mild; that sharpness had come from nowhere. It had also happened more than once recently.
“I ap- apologize for the interruption, s- sir,” stammered the young female attendant who was standing before him, “but I was, um, just informing all of the passengers that we will arrive at our destination in a few minutes. Sorry!” She quickly turned and began scampering off down the corridor.
“Wait, I was just...!” She had already vanished. He sighed and retreated to his cabin, slumping back onto the hard bench. He had just blown his cap for absolutely no reason, and he didn’t know why. Sure I was upset about not being able to practice any more, but that was a bit extreme.
Thunderbreeze’s father, Stormhoof, had been Fillydelphia’s previous storm specialist until his retirement a few years back. He was a legend among weatherponies everywhere, thanks to a special gift that he alone possessed. Stormhoof could summon lightning bolts from nothing. This had made it so much easier to make storm clouds; instead of trying to supercompact an especially aqueous cloud, he could just pick any cloud and pump it full of lightning. He had tried to teach the technique to his son, but Thunderbreeze had never gotten the hang of it. That left the teal pegasus firmly in his father’s shadow, as everypony now complained about how long it took him to whip up storms. So, whenever he had some time on his hooves, he would practice the lightning summoning technique. And today I almost had it!
He sighed, then suddenly snapped from his reminiscing as he remembered what the attendant had said.
“Almost in Canterlot? But...” He looked at the clock. It was 9:52. But I was only practicing for, like, five minutes, not fifty! He gave a nervous chuckle. Time really does fly when you’re having fun.
Sure enough, the train began to grind slowly to a halt. Thunderbreeze grabbed his small saddlebags, which contained only a handful of bits, a scarf, a half-eaten granola bar (breakfast), and an old action novel, which he swore he would finish one day. Needless to say, it hadn’t been touched the whole trip. Seems you’ll have to wait until the return trip, Daring Do. The teal pony left his compartment, trotting down the corridor and out of the train.
He screeched to a halt, his jaw dropping. He had only been to the Royal Station once before, when he was just a foal, but he didn’t remember it being this... grand! Giant pillars separated the platforms, with carefully-pruned ivy gracing the smooth marble columns. He could see his reflection in the polished tiles, shining in the sunlight that filtered in through the soaring glass canopy that stretched over the whole station. He started forward, taking great care to not scuff his hooves on the floor.
The dazed pegasus began to wade through the crowd of ponies, most of them well-dressed unicorns, although he saw some normal-looking ponies coming off the train behind him. He hopped and fluttered his wings, trying to see over the crowd. He spotted a bored-looking policepony loitering by a pillar, watching the mob of ponies. He began to make his way over to the cop.
“Excuse me, sir!” The noise of the station made Thunderbreeze have to nearly yell, “Do you know where I can find the schedule for outgoing trains.”
The policepony silently pointed out a large board on the far wall of the station. The weatherpony warily eyed the fifty-yard mass of well-dressed chaos between him and the time boards. Then his eyes lit up, and he began to unfurl his wings. Now here’s finally a good use for my wings. You can’t walk everywhere!
That was when a gruff voice rang out from the pony cop.
“Hey! No flying in the station!” he shouted. Thunderbreeze groaned, folded his wings, and grumpily began to push his way through the huge crowd, muttering foully about “buckin’ stupid rules” and “frickin’ stuck-up unicorns.”
Upon finally reaching the board, he searched the long lists for the Ponyville train. There. One left at 9:30, which had already left, and another at four. He groaned. There was no train to Ponyville that would get him there by three. And what is it with clocks today? I almost never have to use one, and now my whole day revolves around the time! It’s annoying!
Spotting a map, he trotted over and found Ponyville about 30 miles south of the city. You know... I could probably fly that in, what? Two, three hours? Checking the clock (again!), he saw that he had loads of time, even before he had to start flying. I’ll need my energy, though. I wonder if there’s a Starbucks around here...
The dull thud of steady wingbeats was muffled by the thick, humid air. Thunderbreeze was both exhausted and soaking wet, although he didn’t mind the latter, as he powered over the hilly countryside.
He wasn’t soaking wet because of the sweat pouring down his body. There was, in fact, sweat pouring down his body, but that wasn’t the main reason. Soon after he had departed, the bright sunny day had vanished as his flight path had converged with that of a free-traveling storm, presumably pushed towards Ponyville by the Canterlot weather team. He had to fight the constant urge to fix the storm; it was quite shoddily made, with awkward cloud-stacking and a few potential break-off seams. He had to keep telling himself “Not your problem. Ponyville’s problem, not yours. Keep flying.”
As he lapsed into a resting glide, he scanned the rolling hills before him, half-obscured by the rain, with the autumn leaves of the trees being ripped off by the wind and swirling around. And then, finally, Ponyville appeared over the horizon. With a sigh of relief, the weary pegasus swooped in towards the small town, landing in what appeared to be the deserted, rain-washed town square. He glanced around, then realized with a start that he had no idea where this Sugarcube Corner was.
Too bad there’s no one to ask, unless... wait! There should be a weatherpony monitoring the storm! Sure enough, as his gaze rose to the dark clouds above, he spotted a lavender mare tending to the storm. He flew up to her level and perched on a low cloud.
“Excuse me, miss,” he began.
The yellow-maned pegasus yelped with surprise, her wings locking up for a second, and she dropped about ten feet. She recovered and quickly flapped back up, blushing heavily.
“Sorry, you, uh, startled me. What was it you wanted?”
“Oh no, it’s all my fault, I’m sorry...” Thunderbreeze hastily apologized, “I just wanted to ask, do you know where I can find a ‘Sugarcube Corner’?”
The mare stared at him like he had grown a third eye or something. “Uh, it’s the eye-hurtingly pink building that looks like it’s made out of gingerbread and ice cream.”
He turned, eyes sweeping across the square until he spotted the now-quite-obvious building in question. “Ah, yes, thank you.”
She gave a distracted “Mm-hm,” and raced off to break up a hail core that had began accidentally building up. The teal pegasus shrugged and glided down to the bakery, opening the door and finally stepping out of the rain. He shook himself like a dog, then looked up at his surroundings.
Sugarcube Corner was completely empty. The clock in the corner read 2:45. He sighed. What am I going to do for 15 minutes? As if on cue, a deep rumbling welled up from inside his gut. Oh, yeah. That.
Trotting up to the counter, the teal pony spotted a small bell. He stuck out his hoof and sharply tapped it, causing a clear, crystalline tone to ring throughout the bakery. Suddenly, a clattering noise came from the kitchens, followed by nerve-gratingly high-pitched giggling.
“Coming!” a female voice called out. Another clatter emanated from the back, and then a VERY pink earth pony literally skipped out of the kitchens.
“Welcome to Sugarcube Corner. What can I... GASP!” she suddenly exclaimed. Thunderbreeze cocked an eyebrow out the actual pronunciation of “gasp.”
“I’ve never seen you before!” she continued. “And I’ve seen everypony before, because everypony’s my friend! Which means you’re new!”
“Well... yes, technically, but I’m just-”
“Which means you don’t have any friends here! Which means... Yay! I can be your very first friend EVER! Then you can have a party to make even MORE friends! OhbythewaymynameisPinkiePieIworkatSugarcubeCornerwhichisownedbyMrandMrsCakethey’renotheretodaybutIcouldintroduceyoutothemmaybeattheparty! OhgoshIlovepartiesmyspecialtalentis throwingpartieswhichiswhyI’malsotheElementofLaughterbecausepartiesmakepeoplelaughand-...MMPH!”
The rattled weatherpony shoved his hoof into her mouth, eye twitching furiously as his brain frantically reset itself. Pinkie Pie puffed up her cheeks dramatically and blinked at him.
“...Maybe... later. I just want, umm, food. Yes, food!” he stammered.
“Well, duh! Why else would you come to Sugarcube Corner?”
“Actually, I-”
“What do you want? A dessert? A snack? A really really late lunch? A really really early dinner? We’ve got every baked good you could ever dream of! Which for me is a whole lot! That’s why I’m kind of a chubby pony!”
“Just give me two- no, three muffins. Chocolate Chip, please.”
She ducked under the counter and pulled out the last three muffins in the display, stuck a Sold Out sign in the now-empty section, and plopped them on the counter.
“Six Bits, please!” The bits were tossed onto the counter as their former owner walked dazedly towards a corner booth. Halfway there, he suddenly stopped and wheeled about, turning back to the pink baker..
“Hey... Pinkie Pie, was it? Do you happen to be related to anypony named Stormcaller?”
“Nopey-Dopey! But I’d sure love to meet him! Or is it her? That’d be a weird name for a girl, but I guess it could work! I once met a mare named Muscles, which was kind of...” Having got his answer, he steadfastly blocked out the ramblings. Sitting down in his little booth, he sunk his teeth into a muffin. His eyes shot open. It was moist. It was doughy. It was chocolaty. The balance of tones and textures and flavors was perfect. This is one of the best things I’ve ever encountered in my entire life! He tried (and failed) to cram the entire muffin into his mouth at once. Mmmh... muffins!
At exactly three o’clock, the door to Sugarcube Corner opened. A very wet, bedraggled mare stumbled in out of the continuing downpour, pausing to shake the water from her coat violently. Pinkie Pie popped out of the kitchen again as the soggy pegasus trudged up to the counter.
“The usual, Derpy?...Hey, you look pretty down! What’s the matter? Will it help if I sing?”
“Not now Pinkie. Just the usual,” she sighed tiredly, indeed sounding quite glum.
Pinkie ducked under the counter, before freezing and slowly stood back up straight, grinning sheepishly.
“Uh, we’re actually out of muffins. The new pony bought the last ones,” she proclaimed, dramatically brandishing a hoof in the direction of Thunderbreeze. He froze, his hoof in the middle of reaching for the last muffin, as he quickly wilted under the not-particularly-friendly look thrown his way by the gray mare. Oddly, though, one of her eyes began to drift up and to the left, focusing a not-particularly-friendly look on a painting that hung from the far wall.
She exasperatedly smacked the side of her head, eye refocusing, and dejectedly plopped down at a table as far from him as possible. Pinkie Pie vanished into the kitchen, promising to bake some more muffins with “super-duper Pinkie speed.”
Thunderbreeze glanced from the clock to the upset mare, then to the lone uneaten muffin in front of him, and then back to the clock. Rusty gears in his brain began to turn slowly. Is she the one I’m supposed to meet? If so, that could be trouble, because she already seems to dislike me. The good news was, he realized, he had bribe material. Grabbing the tray in his mouth, he trotted over to her table. The disjointed gaze of the upset mare turned on him, confused, as he pushed his last muffin towards her.
“You look like you need this more than I do. Have a muffin.” Her jaw dropped, eyes widening to an almost comically adorable size. She stuffed the muffin into her gaping maw, just as Thunderbreeze had done earlier. An understandable look of bliss spread over her face, and her eyes skewed off at a great angle, though she didn’t seem to mind this time.
A minute or two later, she swallowed the last of the large muffin and looked back up at him, seeming much more cheerful.
“We may have gotten off on the wrong hoof! Hi! My name is Derpy.”
“I’m Thunderbreeze,” he replied. She nodded, and continued smiling at him. He stared back silently, expecting her to say something in response. She didn’t. They continued to stare at each other, almost questioningly, as the seconds bled into minutes. She blinked. He blinked. The awkwardness in the near-empty bakery was heavy enough that all the way back in the kitchens, Pinkie cringed for no apparent reason.
“Sooooo...Pinkie says you’re new, and I don’t believe I’ve seen you around. Where’re you from?” she finally queried.
“Fillydelphia. I work as a weatherpony out there. Storm specialist.”
“Fillydelphia, huh? Even by train, that’s hours away. What brings you all the way out to Ponyville?” she asked thoughtfully.
The teal pony shuffled in his seat. “Well... you see, I received an odd letter. Under very odd circumstances, too. It didn’t tell me much, other than to be here, today, at this time. It said there was somepony that I needed to meet.” He glanced around the customer-less shop, “But... it seems that, since nopony else is h-”
“What exactly do you mean by ‘very odd circumstances’? You could say I specialize in those,” she interrupted, suddenly very alert.
“Well, first off, the letter is, well, ummm.... Oh, forget it! It sounds stupid and completely insane!” he groaned.
“During my... recent experiences, I’ve learned that just because something sounds crazy, doesn’t mean it is crazy. Go on,” she responded, almost forcefully.
“The letter was in my hoofwriting, okay? I was walking down the street and someone chucked a scroll at me from inside a weird blue box-thingy! Happy?!”
Derpy just sat there, stunned. She stared, eyes completely unfocused, into the distance, jaw working silently. Then something seemed to click. She snapped back into focus, leaned back, and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and massaging her temples with her hoofs. When she looked back up at Thunderbreeze, she had a steely, determined look in those now-completely-aligned eyes.
“It seems that I am the pony that you were supposed to meet. First things first, it is entirely possible that the letter is from you.”
“What? How?! I mean, you can’t just-” he sputtered.
“Because,” she cut him off, “that blue box belongs to an old friend of mine. He is a strange, mysterious, wonderful stallion of many talents and even more quirks, and is the proud owner of a time machine.”
“What,” the weatherpony deadpanned.
“This stallion’s name is the Doctor.” She paused, a familiar frown creeping back across her face, “And he’s been missing for days.”
A hectic commotion ensued in Canterlot Castle. The guards were nervous, servants dashed frantically back and forth through the halls, the hoofmaidens were being pushed to the edge of a nervous breakdown, and overworked cooking staff sweated at their stations. Princess Luna waded through the chaos, frowning. She had just returned from a long diplomatic visit to Llamastan, and for some reason nopony was calm enough to give her clear answer about what exactly was going on.
Finally, as she approached the staircase to her and Celestia’s tower, she spotted a member of the elite guard that she recognized. She quickly strode in the direction of the burly stallion.
“Sergeant Steeljaw,” she spoke loudly, “May I enquire as to what is happening, and why the entire castle appears too busy to respond to one of their princesses?”
The large pegasus jumped in surprise, before spinning and rapidly saluting the moon goddess.
“Princess Luna! We welcome your return! Your sister, Princess Celestia, has caught the flu! The staff just doesn’t know what to do, considering the fact that alicorns aren’t even supposed to become ill!” he barked. Then he stopped at the sight of Luna wincing. He frowned and lowered his voice. “Apologies for the volume, princess.”
Luna smiled wryly. “I understand perfectly; no apologies necessary.” Her smile then dropped from her face. “But as to your earlier statement, alicorns can in fact fall ill, only for different reasons. I must see my sister.” Steeljaw nodded and stepped aside.
Luna ascended the stairs towards her sister’s chambers. As she arrived at the grand wooden doors she saw that it was surrounded with distraught-looking palace nurses and a few servants, all of whom had apparently been kicked out, judging by the guards eyeing them from the doors. She ignored them, pushing through the small mass to the entrance of Celestia’s bedroom. A guard hesitantly moved to intercept, nervously saying something about ‘no visitors whatsoever,’ until she coldly cocked an eyebrow in his direction. The hushed clamor faded out of her hearing as she entered the chambers and closed the solid oak door behind her.
Despite the somewhat-drastic implications, the blue princess couldn’t help but smirk at the scene spread out before her. Celestia was sprawled limply across her enormous bed, surrounded by used tissues empty soup bowls. Her glazed eyes stared blankly at a small television perched on the foot of her bed, playing some rancid daytime soap opera. A line of drool had trickled out of the corner of her mouth and begun to slide down her flushed cheek.
The sound of the heavy door closing caused Celestia’s head to jerk up. At the sight of Luna’s grin, she groaned and closed her eyes. The night princess trotted over to her sister’s bed.
“Poor Celly. You overloaded your magic again, didn’t you?” Celestia just grunted. “I don’t even want to know the last time you’ve sorted through your spell matrices,” Luna continued, “They can build up over time and wreck your body. You should know this, sister! There’s probably dozens of unneeded spells dragging down your stamina.”
Celestia cracked a weak smile. “Gone through my spells? I think it’s been... 400 years?” she rasped, before breaking into a fit of wet coughs.
Luna gasped, “Sister! One cannot just leave one’s magic unchecked without expecting negative repercussions! It’s just the flu this time, but next time it might be smallpox, or the consumption! Then what would you do?”
Recovering from her frame-rattling coughs, the Sun Princess chuckled, “Luna, those were both wiped out more than a century ago.” Then she slumped back, head falling heavily on the pillows. “And... I’m tired. Sleeping now. Go ‘way.” She slipped into slumber at a surprising speed, Luna noted. Luna sighed, turning to leave, but then stopped.
“You know what, sister?” she spoke out loud for no particular reason, “I believe that you would get better faster if you dug through the built-up matrices sooner rather than later.” The only problem was, her sister was out cold, and most likely would be for another few hours. Well... Luna thought, shrugging her wings, it wouldn’t hurt to do it for her. I doubt she’ll care; she’s too sick to even change the channel! Luna trotted over to the television, squinted at it for a minute, and finally located a button that said power, which she pressed with her hoof.
“Ugh. Modern technology.” Approaching Celestia’s, she hesitated, before bending down and touching their horns together. A flash of energy came from the touching horns, and Luna found herself hurled from her body and down a long magical tunnel.
Luna’s consciousness was floating among her older sister’s magic. As to be expected, it was a bright, sunny plane of existence, with hazy, undefined boundaries. As Luna stood on what seemed to be clouds, webs of ethereal golden light stretched everywhere around her, constantly twisting and squirming through the plane. But at what appeared to be the center of everything, the threads were stationary and stretched tight, all radiating outwards from a giant ball of light that resembled a miniature sun. This was Celestia’s spell matrix. At the center lay her one true power, one that Luna could never break apart: the power to control the sun.
Luna, without moving her legs or wings, went to the matrix. She touched her horn to the first one she found. Internal alarm clock, so she wakes up at just the right time to raise the sun. That one might be important. Luna moved to the next one. Automatic alert system in case of attacks across Equestria. Also important. Tracer to direct Spike’s letters to her. Instantaneous contact with foreign ambassadors. Back-up control of moon, in case of emergencies. These were all too important to get rid of! Luna touched another.
One-way seal of the ancient caverns beneath the city. That one gave Luna pause. Why seal up those old caverns? Sure, it was a labyrinth down there, but this seal prevented things from getting out, not going inside. Then Luna remembered something she had read in a history book. 300 years ago, there had been a were-pony infestation in the city. The Guard had quickly eliminated most of them, but a few escaped into the tunnels.
Aha! That must be it! Celly had trapped the were-ponies in the tunnels with a bio-seal! But they must be long-dead by now, Luna reasoned. This spell is unnecessary; it can be broken. With a swipe of her semi-transparent hoof, the thread snapped. Across Canterlot, various hidden alcoves and boarded-up cellar doors shimmered momentarily, before their barriers dissipated. Luna moved onto the next thread.
Somewhere deep within the mountain, a Moboid’s ear twitched. Then a long, eerie grin spread across its face.
Author's Note:
Well. That was... interesting. I sort of forgot about this fic for a while, then immediately got writer;s block when I tried to hop back into the swing of things. Most of this chapter was done in the last few weeks. But hey, it's here. So... yeah. Another thanks to my prereaders: LordSeth, thegamefilmguruman, and Avi. Plus my little sis for helping out with some stuff.
Two things to note. First, I kind of freaked out during the season finale. Because suddenly it became canon that there are webs of caverns hidden beneath Canterlot that almost nopony knows about! Yeah, that's right. My fic was canon before it was canon. *hipster glasses*. Secondly, you may have noticed an improvement in writing quality, or possibly some odd plot holes. So my first order of business is to do some much needed revisions to the first chapter. Then chapter three. Eventually. At this rate, who knows? :3
